Promises, Nightmares, and Redemption
by Scarby
Summary: Remus talks to Sirius in his head and relives memories, both good and bad. Set during PoA with flashbacks to MWPP and after PoA.


Title: Promises, Nightmares, and Redemption  
  
Author: Scarby  
  
Disclaim: I disclaim. There, you happy, Ms. J. K. "Let's-Piss-Off-My-Loyal- Fans-By-Refusing-to-Give-Them-Their-Harry-Potter-Fix" Rowling. AGH! I'm sorry! Please, don't sue me, don't stone me! I disclaim, I disclaim!  
  
WARNING: Stream-of-consciousness. Very dangerous that. Always gotta look out for stream-of-consciousness or else it'll bite your ass.  
  
Oh, right. And as always love transcending gender. For all those too uneducated to realize what I mean, then stop reading!  
  
Serious couples, whether you want them or not: Remus/Sirius, James/Lily  
  
Summary: Remus talks to Sirius in his head and relives memories, both good and bad. Set during PoA with flashbacks to MWPP and after PoA.  
  
Spoilers: PoA, maybe more. Who knows. Who cares. If you haven't read Harry Potter, how'd you find this story? And how do you live with yourself for not reading Harry Potter?! Go, shoo, read!  
  
Note: Just to clear up something, this is what Remus is thinking AT THE TIME IT HAPPENS unless otherwise specified. Hence, why, at the beginning, he constantly calls Sirius a bastard, etc. It's what he thinks of Sirius at the BEGINNING of the school year.  
  
  
  
Promises, Nightmares, and Redemption  
  
Tell me, Sirius Black: Do you still have nightmares?  
  
Nightmares like I have? Like what Harry lives with? Can you imagine a betrayer for a lover, a cowardly rat for a mate, like I have? Do you hear Lily and James scream, protecting little Harry, as he does?  
  
Do you still dream, you lying bastard?  
  
***  
  
It was cold last time I saw you. Middle of the winter, yet Azkaban was far colder, silent but for the screams of the dying, the insane, the helpless.  
  
You were silent, gritting your teeth each time a Dementor passed your cell.  
  
I didn't understand. You didn't look any different.  
  
"Hullo, Remus," you hoarsely murmured.  
  
Silence. Another cold tremour as a Dementor whirled too closely by us.  
  
"Moony." You swallowed heavily. "Moony, I'm sorry I did this to you."  
  
Finally, the bitter anger I had hidden since hearing of his betrayal broke my cold exterior. "You're sorry for me?! What about Lily - James - Peter! Are you sorry for them?! You traitor! You want my pity?! You shan't have anything of mine! You renounced everything that rightfully belonged to me when you betrayed - killed! - your closest friends! All for Voldemort! You have nothing! I renounce any claim you laid upon me!"  
  
A moment passed as I calmed myself and you gathered this new information into your frostbitten mind. With a startled choke, you sprang to your feet.  
  
"But, Remus, we're - "  
  
"I have no mate, and I never will, nor will I look for another. You have no mate. You are *dead*. Your body's just waiting for your mind to realize this tiny error. Have fun rotting in this Hell you created, *Black*."  
  
Tears threatening to spill, I turned and strode out.  
  
Behind me, I heard my mate - no, never again my mate - the betrayer of secrets howl my name as a Dementor swirled next to his cell.  
  
It was only after I was safely outside and had Apparated back to my own home that I finally sobbed, clutching my chest as the bite from our claiming throbbed. I howled, howled, howled until my throat was hoarse and bleeding. I howled longer and louder than any time back at the Shrieking Shack. The pain flamed far more painful than any bite or transformation.  
  
No neighbors slept peacefully that night.  
  
Only one word was on my lips:  
  
"PADFOOT!!!"  
  
***  
  
I knew full well why Dumbledore suddenly asked *me* of all people to join the Hogwarts staff. Of course, I had heard you escaped; even the Muggles knew.  
  
I had tried to forget you. I had almost succeeded. Just pretended you were actually dead. I never mourned for you, only mourned the loss of our love. If it ever was love.  
  
Yet, on nights of the full moon, as I paced the locked cellar, silently waiting for a transformation even more painful than the last, I remembered memories you'd forgotten by now.  
  
Our first kiss, so innocent and chaste - so opposite the playboy image you enjoyed. A simple press of moist lips, both pairs of eyes open and wondering. How did I ever find the courage to initiate it? I guess I had some Gryffindor in me after all.  
  
Our first official date, a Hogsmeade weekend. You bought me a butterbeer on a cold, December evening at the Three Broomsticks. You said I was far too skinny and gave up your cloak for me, said the chilled air would never affect you. Naturally, you were in bed with a severe cold the next week. But you told me that it was all worth it to simply hold my hand as we silently meandered our way back to the castle.  
  
The way the rest of the Marauders, when we finally got the courage to confront them, how they just laughed, James saying how it was "about bloody time, you daft buggers!" And how Lily smirked, as if her feminine intuition had told her about us ages ago. As Peter smiled and congratulated us.  
  
The day you let the rest of the school know you were "off the market", much to the chagrin of most of the female (and many in the male) population. We walked in together, hand-in-hand, and, right before we sat, you pulled me to you. The kiss could have gone on for centuries for all we cared, except Professor McGonagall sternly told us to take our seats and eat. As she left, did you notice the look she gave Dumbledore, that "I knew it, aren't you so happy?" look? The one we'd only seen before when Lily and James strode in together, shoulder-to-shoulder and hip-to-hip?  
  
Did you remember any of this, you sick bastard?  
  
I hoped not.  
  
You didn't deserve such memories.  
  
The worst was when I actually transformed. Even after more than a decade, the wolf cried for his lost mate, the one he had always run with, his pack, his mate.  
  
The wolf howled for you each night of the month, scratching and biting itself even worse than before. Each month was worse before the Wolfsbane Potion.  
  
With the potion, I could stay docile.  
  
But that never stopped the memories, the pain, the loss.  
  
***  
  
You thought I'd never find out, didn't you.  
  
My old neighbor Mrs. Patterson wrote me, saying there was a large, black dog sniffing around my abandoned house a little after I had left. Apparently, this *dog* simply sniffed around, whined a bit, and then took off at a run when she approached him to see if he was a stray. Jittery fellow, she said.  
  
Understandable for you to be "jittery" when you're the most wanted man in both the Muggle and the Magical worlds.  
  
So, Sirius, what were you doing there? What would you have said to me if I had still been home? Were you there to take me prisoner, to seek my forgiveness, to murder me as well? Did you look inside and see how there were no mementos of us?  
  
If you had gotten inside, would you have looked for one? And would you have found the two hidden pictures I kept which still held your face? One was our graduation, all five of the Marauders together, James' arms around Lily, Peter looking amazed that he had even passed, and you.you.  
  
Merlin, you were kissing my grinning cheek.  
  
By that time, were you working for Voldemort? By the second picture, you must have been spying for him.  
  
I kept one picture from our handfasting ceremony a few years after our graduation and a year before Lily gave birth to little Harry.  
  
We were dancing. You had actually cleaned up rather nicely, your long hair, usually kept in a careless yet highly charming ponytail, flowed loosely around your shoulders. Bodies pressed tightly together, it must have been our first dance.  
  
As we danced, I remembered you had gently brushed my hair behind my ear and leaned closely, breath warm against my flesh.  
  
"Remus, I promise, no matter what may happen or how long we may part for whatever reason, I will always love and I will always come back for you. I love you. Never forget that."  
  
We danced the rest of the dance in tender silence.  
  
I thought you had meant about the war when you spoke; I just never figured you were talking about your own betrayal.  
  
Talk about hindsight being 20/20.  
  
***  
  
So, you finally are going to take your chance, traitor. Come to finish what your lord could not achieve.  
  
I looked at the Marauder's Map, trying to spot where you would attack Harry and his friends.  
  
The Marauder's Map. Gods, that was your and James' idea, wasn't it? Since we knew all the grounds and pretty much every secret passageway, you two came up with the idea that you wanted your reputation to be remembered, perhaps have our descendants break some of our records. Thought it would be funny.  
  
It took us months to finish it, but it was worth it in the end, wasn't it? With Lily's help, of course. James certainly picked the finest witch to marry.  
  
She was the one to suggest we include passwords if this was going to be found by some other pranksters. Since we knew all the passwords and all the rotating ones as well, we did as she said.  
  
Then, a password was changed without being a rotating password.  
  
Oh, dear me.  
  
Eventually, Lily actually figured a charm to have the correct password appear on the map, no matter if it was changed or not.  
  
Bloody clever witch, Lily. Best of the bunch, really.  
  
Do you even remember her? Did you see her in Harry's eyes or hear her Harry's laugh? Betrayer, did you hear her scream?  
  
Just as I rose to get Dumbledore to send the Dementors after you, a flicker on the map caught my eye. It was the three children, their names hunched together. They must have been under James' Invisibility Cloak.  
  
Just as I was about to clear the map, the children's names cleared just enough for a tiny bubble holding fourth name, hidden under the other bunched bubbles, to appear.  
  
I read the name five times before it finally registered. My heart pounding, my palms sweating, my breathing rapid and shallow, I raced out the door without a backward glance, the name ringing in my ears.  
  
Peter Pettigrew.  
  
That rat.  
  
***  
  
The last time I had seen you, you hadn't been in Azkaban long, so you looked like you always had.  
  
In the Shrieking Shack, you looked like Death warmed over. But not warmed enough. You looked like an unhealthy, anorexic skeleton.  
  
When you told us the tale of your innocence, I never thought you ever looked more radiant.  
  
Merlin, you were *innocent*. It would all be over. We could be together again like it was before the suspicion, the murders, the wrongful torture at Azkaban. You would be able to walk in the sunshine without hiding. We could walk together in that sunshine.  
  
But, like before, it all went horribly wrong.  
  
Snape.  
  
Git. Prick. Son of a drunken troll and a lovestruck mule.  
  
What, me bitter? Never.  
  
That bastard.  
  
I ran into the Forest in wolf form.  
  
You were captured but escaped with the Hippogriff.  
  
We were apart once more.  
  
And all I knew was that it was my fault.  
  
***  
  
Sirius, I was home again.  
  
Not the shack I had lived in for twelve miserable years without you, trying to forget what I thought you had done.  
  
No, I was home.  
  
The cottage we owned back after we graduated still stood and in not-too-bad condition. Someone must have taken care of it while we were.away.  
  
I immediately suspected Dumbledore's hand in it. He always knew more than he dared let on.  
  
Our nearest neighbors were more than three miles away, and the surrounding areas were heavily wooded, perfect for a pack of two to play during full moons. A stream leading to a marsh that fell into a river, small patches of fields, rolling hills. The cottage was nestled in the hollow at the bottom of a hill, barely hidden by the beginnings of the woods, a hay field on the hill, a half-mile long gravel lane leading to the cottage.  
  
Paradise.  
  
I fixed up the place, living there over a year before you showed up on my doorstep as a bedraggled Padfoot.  
  
When you transformed, you looked much more like the Sirius I knew before.well, just before. Hair shortened and cleaner, robes looking more equal to my shabbiness than to Azkaban's, cheeks not so hollowed, eyes not to empty.  
  
Finally, you broke the silence with a single word:  
  
"Moony?"  
  
And I fell all over again.  
  
I pulled you into my arms, a tight embrace, desperate and disbelieving; you clutched to me like I was the only thing keeping you in this world.  
  
And we stood on the porch of our cottage in the warm sunlight, embracing each other silently until it was too much.  
  
I pulled your mouth to mine, no betrayals between us anymore.  
  
My breath hitched as we parted, and I could see your eyes were wet. Why cry, Sirius? We were together again, weren't we?  
  
You leaned towards my ear, breath warm on my skin, and murmured in a broken whisper, "Remus, I love you. I'll always love you. Remus, Remus, do you remember my promise? I'll always come back to you."  
  
I whispered back, "Sirius, I never forgot."  
  
You pulled back just enough to look me in the eye.  
  
I gently put a palm onto your cheek and breathed, "Gods, do I love you."  
  
And I knew that, no matter what else may happen, I would never doubt you again.  
  
***  
  
I know you have nightmares, Sirius Black. Nightmares of Azkaban, of betrayals, of Lily and James' deaths on your hands. But they're just nightmares.  
  
I'm here with you now, Sirius. I'll hold you until you wake up. I'll hold you until you fall asleep again. I'll hold onto you until the end of everything, love.  
  
I promise.  
  
The End  
  
Author's Note: The description of the land surrounding Remus and Sirius' "Paradise Cottage" is actually the truthful description of the areas surrounding my home. Just thought you should know that. Yeah me.  
  
Feedback: scarby13@hotmail.com and it staves off the Plot Bunnies chanting, "What about a Harry Potter/Teletubbies/Conan: the Barbarian Crossover?" Now, y'all don't want *that* horrendous concoction, do you?  
  
~Clamat, sed ubi asinus est?~ 


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